


Obsidian Rings and Opal Eyes

by CazzoDiNoci



Category: no - Fandom
Genre: Boarding School, Magic, Mystic, Obsidian, Witches, opal - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CazzoDiNoci/pseuds/CazzoDiNoci
Summary: They're not sure yet.Perhaps they never will be.But they still hoped they would.A story of friends learning more and more about themselves, witch magic and the proper use of herbs and spices for medicinal and practical uses, and the inability to be "in the know" when it comes to "emotions".





	Obsidian Rings and Opal Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> It's not a fanfic.

Prologue

Clara-Jean

* * *

My mother had once today me that cloves didn't belong in tea, they belonged in dishes that had pasta in them or was a soup.

_"It's an herb for food things, Clara-Jean, not drink things."_

_"But-"_

_"Soup is not a drink, Clara-Jean."_

So that night, I recreated my own version of an online recipe called "Spice Tea", with such essentials like orange Koolaid, lemonade, and tea. And cloves.

It was the kind of defiant act that made her both illustrious to have such a clever daughter and completely, utterly irked to have me around the house for more than a few days at a time. And really, it was the kind of mother-daughter relationship that had people wondering if the two were really sisters or if the mother's parenting was _off_. But I never minded the odd looks and secretly envious smiles. It made me feel powerful. Made me feel free and rebellious and content with my own mind.

At least, it did before Hemmington Way. Until I was thrust indifferently into the sly hands of a grandmother I hardly knew. Until I learned that the world wasn't all about your cheeky cleverness or how safe you felt being you. The world was crippled into striking out against you, and it was crying out for help the only way it knew how: uncertainty.

But that was alright. Hemmington Way was alright. My grandmother was alright. They were alrght because the world and its uncertainty was how I discovered I had obsidian in my soul and opal in my veins.


End file.
